


Fantasy

by KateKintail



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Promptember
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-14 22:51:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20608646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateKintail/pseuds/KateKintail
Summary: Peter has an exciting night.





	Fantasy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 11 of Promptember 2019

“I expect you already know, but you’re my favorite” James said, dropping to his knees in front of Peter. His fingers tapped some unidentified pattern on Peter’s cock, sending a shiver of excitement right though the young man. “Mmmm. Love the way you react to me. Love how you squeal with excitement about me. Love you more than anyone.” His fingers stroked the inside of Peter’s thighs as he delivered soft kisses to Peter’s quickly hardening member.

“More than Lily?” Peter’s hands buried themselves in James’ wild, unruly, black hair. 

“Of course.”

“More than Padfoot?”

“Who?”

Peter groaned with desire, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. 

He felt a warm, wet tongue start at the head of his cock. With foreskin pulled back, the tongue proceeded to lap and slurp and lick until every bit of him was both tingling and dripping. “OhGodPadfoot,” Peter gasped. “Dontstop! Dontstop!” 

Sirius gave a bark of a laugh and stopped. Peter groaned again, but it felt so good he really did want it to last as long as possible. If it came now, it would all be over. So he pretended to pout and only got a tongue pushing its way into his mouth in answer. Well, not only. There were also two strong thighs trapping his hardness between them. He wanted to thrust. He wanted friction and movement and the best orgasm of his life. But what he got was stubborn Sirius Black calling the shots once again. And he fucking loved that. “Rough,” he begged. “I want it rough.” 

There was a growl, but not a playful sort. It was low and fierce. 

And suddenly he was thrown face-down on the couch and a flat palm was striking his arse. Hard. Repeatedly. As a childish shame mixed with a stinging warmth, his whole body began to shudder. He thrust into the couch cushions as Remus dragged his fingernails down the backs of Peter’s thighs, not enough to draw blood, just enough to leave red trails. 

As Remus bit down on the tender spot where Peter’s neck met his shoulders, Peter cried out. Pulsating with pleasure, Peter finally came. 

The orgasm seemed to both last forever and end far too quickly. He tried to hold on to his fantasy for just a few more moments. But as soon as he opened his eyes, Peter remembered was alone in his dingy flat, having just spilled his spunk all over the one good piece of furniture he owned. 

It took him four tries to get the thing clean. He wished Lily were there. She was so much better at household charms than he was. But he hadn’t heard from any of his friends in weeks.


End file.
